Twisted Logic
by Taio Kaiona
Summary: Jack Napier had always been good at annoying his teachers. A series of snapshots, in which the young Joker pisses off people in his own special way. Some will be humorous, some not. Please give it a chance. New sort of chapter!
1. Social Studies: Shades of Grey

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing, except from my own characters, opinions and ideas. Anything Batman/Joker related goes to DC Comics.**

_So this was just a little idea I had... I don't know if people will like it or not, but I have to try, don't I?_

_I always find it interesting to see people's takes on the 'pre-Joker'-Joker, and this is mine…. In a school environment. Not revolutionary, but there you go. I just want to 'try him out' on different people. I have always considered The Joker's real name to be Jack, so Jack it shall be in this particular fic._

_Also, they won't all be this deep or complex. Some will be humorous :D_

_---_

_July 10th, 1995_

It was mid-afternoon. The sweltering sun beat down on James Dorson High School, slowly tormenting the students within it. Ms. Cranford's Sociology class were grouped together in the small, stuffy room, listening to an endless presentation made by one of the students.

"This is why we need elements of social control within our society," the boy read. "Without control, everything would spiral down until one person decides to take responsibility; this is when we end with a dictatorship or something as equally undesirable." The boy turned his page and cleared his throat. "Dr. Rudford's theories about social division and repression are interesting: he claims that even if we were to start over with no hierarchy of any kind, one would still form itself naturally due to the nature of human beings - that some men and women would always achieve dominance over others due to natural intelligence, physical strength, skill, attractiveness, cunning, or any else that society sees as an advantage. I, personally, would have to agree with this."

There was a snort from the back of the room.

The boy who had been reading clutched his folder to his chest in annoyance, and glared at the student that had interrupted him.

"Mr. Napier?" the teacher said quietly, looking up from her desk. "Do you have something that you'd like to share?"

The boy that had laughed looked around slowly. The whole class was staring, waiting for him to say something. Willing him to say something. They all knew that Jack Napier was not afraid to speak his opinions to teachers, and they looked forward to his comments, as well as the reactions that they got from whichever member of staff he had chosen to wind up. Ms. Cranford was relatively new to the school, meaning that the students didn't yet know her limits - or her weaknesses. She herself didn't know more than a few of the kids names yet.

But she knew Jack. Everybody knew Jack.

"Well?" Ms. Cranford asked, trying to keep the annoyance from her voice. "Because if you have nothing worth saying, Mr. Napier, I suggest you hush up and let Thomas continue his talk."

"To be perfectly honest, ma'am, I think Thomas has it all wrong," Jack replied.

A ripple of whispers washed over the room. Ms. Cranford stood up, walking slowly to one of the desks and leaning against it. "Please elaborate on this," she said smoothly.

"Well, I have to disagree with a point that he made at the beginning, about the function of crime in today's world. In my opinion, we _do_ need crime and deviance in our society."

"And why would this be?"

"Because without wrong and the bad, how would we know what the right and good things are? We would have no definition of either one." Jack rocked his chair back against the wall, brushing his hair off his face, before continuing. "Look at it this way: an artist has a plain canvas in front of them... they can paint as much white onto it as they want, but none of it will show up if there isn't some black to contrast it, to outline it.... Without any black, it's pointless. You'd just have a plain white sheet. You know, every pencil sketch contains light and dark tones, because otherwise there would BE no sketch at all, just a blank page."

Ms. Cranford shook her head. "This isn't relevant; life isn't a painting or a pencil sketch. And besides that, surely if everything was right and good, with no darkness, then the world would be a happier place."

Jack laughed out loud. "And why would they be happy?"

"Because there would be no suffering, no darkness."

"Ah, yes, but without bad and evil, how would ever know or appreciate what suffering is or feels like in the first place? And how can they be glad not to be experiencing it? You see... if everything were good all the time, then the act of doing good would be meaningless. If we experienced nothing bad in our lifetimes, we'd have no motivation to do anything good, because why would we feel the need to change anything? But if we go by Thomas's theory of natural dominance due to intelligence and such, then there will always be a higher and a lower to every society; and from that, a good and a bad. Do you understand?"

"I understand, but I don't agree."

There was a pause. Then;

"Tell me something, ma'am. Do you believe that anarchism is a defensible policy?"

Ms. Cranford wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion. "We're not talking ab--"

"Do you or do you not?"

She pushed her glasses up her nose. "Well, Jack, what do you believe?"

Jack thought for a second, chewing his lip, before saying slowly, "I believe that anarchism is nothing more than a fight for freedom."

Another silence.

"That's an.... interesting theory, Mr. Napier,' Ms. Cranford said quietly. "And one that I'm sure you will have great fun explaining to me in your detention tomorrow. Perhaps next time you will not interrupt my classes so thoughtlessly."

To her great surprise, Jack grinned. "I look forward to it," he replied. "Technically it's not my fault anyway, seeing as it was you who asked me for my opinion in the first place."

---

Ms. Cranford spent the rest of her lesson making angry notes in the back of her folder, not paying the slightest attention to what Thomas was talking about now. If she was honest with herself, she actually found her debate with Jack more interesting than Thomas's presentation. And it was true; she had asked if he had anything to share.

At the end of the lesson, she gathered together her folder and bag and headed out. Jack was standing just outside the door with several of his classmates.

"Remember your detention, Mr. Napier," she reminded him. "Tomorrow lunchtime, my office."

Jack did not answer.

But halfway down the hall, Ms. Cranford felt a presence creep close behind her, and heard a soft hiss in her ear.

_"How has your mother been recently, Professor?"_

The woman grew pale, unsure if she had heard right. She turned to face Jack, trembling. The boy was smiling mockingly at her, his eyes dark.

_He can't know... I haven't told anyone else yet, not even Lisa... How could he possibly know?_

Ms. Cranford swayed slightly, gave a hasty, mumbled, "Goodbye," and tottered down the corridor in the wrong direction.

Jack Napier smiled.

--

**A/N:** _So, what did y'all think? I know it might seem a little too philosophical for some people's liking, but my Jack is going to be a very thoughtful character. :)_

_If you have any ideas of how to improve, or comments in general, just let me know. And review! Please!_

_Cheers,_

_Taio :)x_


	2. English: All The World's A Stage

**Disclaimer: If I owned Batman, would I still have my poor excuse for a phone?**

_Hehehee... so, several months later, I'm back with another classroom caper from Jack. I cannot guarantee to update regularly - life is busy - but I intend to take up "xKillthelights' idea of showing Jack as he harasses different teachers. I may incorparate a plot into it somehow... I have my ideas._

_Anyway, we move from Social Studies to English, and see a more humorous side to Jack than in Chapter One._

---

It was a Friday. The sun beat on the dusty campus, just as hot as it had been for the last few weeks. It was a mere twenty-five minutes to the end of the day; a mere twenty-five minutes to the weekend.

Mr. Ingham was a strong-willed man. He could argue a case until his opponent was left gasping for breath, and would show them some well-researched evidence while they were down just to get his point across. The other teachers would go to him with their problems - be it in work, rest, or play - and his answers were listened to avidly, no matter how useless or inadequate they were. His word in the classroom was the law; but the pupils obeyed him willingly, for he was a good teacher, and not at all unpleasant to them.

In fact, it was safe to say that he was the most popular and well-respected teacher at James Dorson High.

…So why, oh _why_, was one single student able to undermine him so easily?

Mr. Ingham's 10th Grade English class had been studying _'Romeo and Juliet' _for just over three lessons, and a certain Jack Napier had already managed to criticise the plot, the structure, and the message of the play - in great detail.

Mr. Ingham put down his board pen, and turned to the class. Around thirty young faces looked back at him; he could see Jack's perpetual grin even from here, at the opposite end of the classroom. It could sometimes be a little unnerving.

Shaking these thoughts from his head, he motioned towards the projector. "What you see here is a sort of mind map, interlinking the characters of the play. Their names are in blue, and the relationships in red. Simple enough?"

There was a general murmur of agreement from the seated students.

"Well, if you could just make a note of this, and then we can move on," Mr Ingham said brightly. "No masterpieces – just get the facts down." There was a rustle of paper as the class opened their books.

…As _most_ of the class opened their books. Jack Napier had not even got his book out; he was swinging, as he so often did, on the back two legs of his chair.

"Jack, please sit properly," Mr. Ingham requested. There was a pause, and then the chair fell with a _smack_ to its original position. "Thank you." Mr. Ingham took a seat at his desk. "You know, I would greatly appreciate it if you were to copy this down, like everyone else is doing."

Jack stared blankly back at him, the smile gone from his face. "I don't really feel like it today, sir," was his reply.

Mr. Ingham frowned. "Is there a problem?"

Jack appeared to ponder the question. Then, "Yes. I think there is." He stretched his arms widely. "You see, I-" he motioned to himself flamboyantly, "-have had enough of this _bullshit_."

"Watch your language," Mr. Ingham said sharply. The class was watching now, ready for another of Jack's infamous arguments.

"I don't see why I have to watch _my_ language, sir," Jack said coyly. "Mr. _Shakespeare's_ is no less appalling. In fact, I can barely understand what he's saying."

"If you're having difficulties, there are translations in the textbook," Mr. Ingham said shortly, pulling out some papers to mark, and effectively ending the exchange.

For a few minutes there was quiet, as pens scratched against paper and books rustled.

Then,

"Sir?"

Jack was watching him again. His eyes were wide, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Mr. Ingham put his pen down, steeling himself. "What is it, Mr. Napier?"

The boy smirked at the formality. "I have a riddle for you."

"I don't want to hear it."

"Oh, but I think you do."

Mr. Ingham looked around. Nearly everyone was watching now. Jack seemed to be aware of this. "It's topical," he added cheerily.

The teacher sighed. "Make it quick."

"Ok," Jack said, sitting up straight, "Romeo and Juliet are found dead, side by side, on a kitchen floor. They are in a puddle of water, and surrounded by shards of broken glass." Jack looked around at his audience. "However, the glass did not cut either one of them. Neither did they drown, or suffer any impact from the glass object. Your question: how did Romeo and Juliet die?"

A round-faced boy opened his mouth to respond, but Jack cut across him. "No, no, no – only Ingham here is allowed to answer."

The man in question was looking stumped. He furrowed his brow, deep in thought.

"What's the matter, sir?" Jack asked jovially. "Not heard this one before?"

Mr. Ingham shook his head. He was unable to think of a single suggestion. "Alright, I give in," he said irritably.

"What was that, sir?" Jack asked, barely masking his wide smile with a look of confusion.

"I said, 'I give in!'" Mr. Ingham repeated loudly.

Jack looked delighted. "You're gonna kick yourself, sir, but alright. Romeo and Juliet…" he paused for effect, "…are _fish_."

The room was quiet for a few seconds, as thirty brains processed the information. Then, there was a collective, "Oh," of understanding, as well as a few laughs of appreciation. Jack was beaming.

Mr. Ingham was rather annoyed now. "Shall we get on?" he snapped, not pleased at being made a fool of. "Jack, what did you write about Romeo for your homework?"

Jack sighed dramatically, pulling his book from his bag and opening. "Aha," he cleared his throat, "that Romeo needs to grow a pair and get over Juliet, 'cause there's other fish in the sea."

Mr. Ingham's face was reddening by the second. "This is getting ridiculous. I know you don't particularly like the play, but-"

Jack interrupted in a sing-sing voice. "_Said Hamlet to Ophelia_," he began, loudly and clearly. Mr. Ingham froze in confusion, watching his pupil with beady eyes.

"…_I'll do a sketch of thee." _Jack's smile grew even bigger, knowing his audience was still watching. "_The question is… "Which lead to use?_"

Mr. Ingham didn't move. He was waiting for the punch line, just like he had done so many times before.

For a while, Jack didn't say anything, reveling the tension he had created. Then, he grinned.

"…_2B or not 2B?"_

The class erupted in laughter. A few people even started clapping, but quickly stopped at the look on Mr. Ingham's face.

"Detention, Mr. Napier," he said quietly.

"Oh, good," Jack said indifferently. "I'll be sure to polish my act for Monday, then."

---

Mr. Ingham cheered just as much as his pupils when the bell rang. Sure, he wasn't looking forward to Monday's detention… but he still had two whole days before he had to face Jack Napier again.

_A/N: It is done! So... what is the general consensus? Which teacher should Jack annoy next? Am I getting his character right?_


	3. Math: True Colours

**A/N: **_Hello, guys! Sorry to anyone and everyone who perhaps wanted an update. After a nice, long break, (and GCSE's - I did alright... somehow) I got my inspiration back. Here's the result!_

**Disclaimer: I own Batman about as much as I own a house in California. I am British and therefore live in Britain... not in California, and therefore, I don't own Batman.**

* * *

Mrs. Corin McGuff – James Dorson's resident Math teacher - hated Monday's. As a given. They were drab, dull, and dreary- especially in contrast to the weekends that preceded them.

This particular Monday was especially bad: this, because the weekend before had been especially good. In fact, the whole of the previous fortnight had been good. Mrs. McGuff had just visited her daughter in Spain; a large amount of time had been spent sunbathing on a lilo and sipping cocktails, or eating paella at a nice little street side café with umbrellas over the tables.

Tearing her thoughts away from this little slice of paradise, she cast her gaze towards the classroom door, and then to the (currently empty) desks, and finally to the window. The good weather that had been bestowed upon them for a month and a half was swiftly dissipating; grey clouds were swelling from the corners of the sky, masking the sun in _misery_. Mrs. McGuff sighed. She really did hate Mondays.

The door banged open, and she jolted upright. Her students were arriving, chattering avidly about their weekends. Some of them nodded politely to her, which she returned with a smile. A few of them asked her how her holiday was, to which she replied, "Good enough to give me a tan." This earned a laugh or two; Mrs. McGuff was notoriously pale, with vivid ginger hair – she tanned about as often as they got a new President.

Once every body had settled down, she picked up a pen from her desk and wrote the title on the board. "Vectors," she read aloud. "You should have covered this with your substitute teacher while I was away?" There were a few nods. "Good. Well then, I would like you all to turn to page seventy-six in your books, and copy down the key points. After that…"

As she spoke, Mrs. McGuff scanned the room, doing a mental register of the students. Her eyes fell upon an empty desk, and her hear heart leapt. "No Jack today?" she enquired, as the other students drew their textbooks from their bags.

"He is here," said a thin girl with pigtails. "I saw him with the principal earlier."

Mrs. McGuff frowned, silently berating herself. "Thank you, Vera." She had got her hopes up for a moment there.

Sure enough, Jack entered a few minutes later, banging the door loudly. He went to his seat - without even looking at the teacher – and slumped into it, dropping his bag unceremoniously on the floor.

"Good morning, Jack," Mrs. McGuff said, pausing in her marking. She couldn't be bothered to fight him for being late. "The work is on the board." She sighed again as she looked back down at the sheets she was marking, watching the words swim into one inky mass._ Only twenty-five more to go_, she encouraged herself, unscrewing a new pen. _Now, this falls into the 'A' category. _She checked the name scrawled at the top …_Tommy Visto. Well, he is a bright one. I don't think that's fair, though; Jimmy works so much harder than him, and is only on a B…_

She scratched a freckled cheek with the end of the pen. _I wonder if I can swing it for Jimmy – find a way to award a few extra marks?_

So engrossed did she become in her work, that fifteen minutes passed in absolute silence. That is, in _almost_ absolute silence; a small clatter sounded from the middle of the room, making several people jump – Mrs. McGuff included.

"Sorry," came the grunt of apology, and Mrs. McGuff saw Jack Napier untangling his bag strap from where it had caught the leg of the chair. Mrs. McGuff was about to reply that it was fine, and not to worry, when it registered in her mind _that Jack's desk was empty_. He had been sitting there for _fifteen minutes_, doing _absolutely nothing._

"Jack?" she asked, lowering her voice so as not to disturb anyone. "Would you get your books out?"

He shrugged. Mrs. McGuff stood up. "Do you need help with the work?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Then why haven't you started?"

Jack shrugged again. "Don't feel like it," he muttered. His eyes were downcast. Concerned, she approached his table and knelt down beside him.

"Is everything ok?" she asked quietly. "At home, and such? I know you were with the Principal earlier." Jack didn't answer. He was examining his fingers, not looking at her. Mrs. McGuff looked around; the others students were all working quietly, so she leaned in closer. "It's not… it's not your Dad again, is it?" she whispered.

Jack jerked suddenly in his seat, pulling away from her. "There's nothing wrong," he said firmly. "I'm fine. I… I just had to get permission to leave early today. That's all."

_Well, it was worth a try._ "In that case," Mrs. McGuff said gently, "I'd like you to get your book out and start working."

The boy shook his head, reverting to his signature 'chair-lean', and looked at her right in the eye. "I don't think I will."

Mrs. McGuff knew those signals all too well; an infamous 'Jack' argument was brewing. "You've just told me," she said, through gritted teeth, "that there's no reason-"

"I've already done it all."

Mrs. McGuff blinked. "You have?" she said, bemused. "Then… well, you can do the questions on the next page."

"I've done them too."

She frowned again. "When did you do those?"

"About two weeks ago; the lesson after I did what these guys are doing now," Jack replied. And, before she could continue, "Don't bother asking me to do the page after that, either. I've finished the whole module."

Mrs. McGuff was a little taken aback. "And you did all this while I was away?"

He nodded.

"Well, I'm impressed," she admitted. "That's difficult stuff, the last few topics-"

"It was easy," he interrupted, silencing her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Miss; I was busy searching for the meaning of life within the skin of my palm."

Mrs. McGuff bit back a smile at this, despite herself. "Well, if you're sure you understand everything in this topic, you could move onto the next one?" she suggested.

This, it appeared, was the wrong thing to say. Jack was looking at her as though she'd just announced that she was engaged to his mother. "I finish all my work, _weeks_ before everyone else… and my reward is _more_ work?"

The sudden increase in volume had caused some other students to stop working and look up. Mrs. McGuff backed away from Jack's table. "What else would you like me to suggest? There's no point in you wasting an hour, just sitting here."

Jack shrugged once more. "I don't care. But you can't _make_ me do anything."

"Excuse me?" said Mrs. McGuff, her face darkening. "You will not talk to me in such a rude manner."

"Whatever." He kicked back on his chair again. 'You can't do _shit_ to me. I bet _I_ have more control over _you_ than _you_ do over _me_."

Mrs. McGuff couldn't help but scoff at this. Jack was undeterred, however. "I bet I do," he insisted. "I'll prove it. I bet... I bet that I can make you say the world '_blue'_, without meaning to."

Mrs. McGuff raised an eyebrow. "There's no way I'm going to say it now you've told me that. I'll be constantly on my guard - that's the way the subconscious mind works."

Jack pretended that he couldn't hear her. "What colour is grass?" he asked her, keeping a steady gaze.

She hesitated, but figured it couldn't hurt to play along - if it meant he would cooperate. "Green," she answered.

"Very good," he said, a faint smile reappearing on his face. "Now, what colour is my hair?"

She eyed it. "A sort of dirty blonde?"

"And… what colour is _your_ hair?" He eyed it disdainfully. "And don't say '_strawberry blonde'_; you're not fooling anyone."

She ignored the last comment, and brushed a few strands away from her face. "Ginger."

"You're getting the hang of this," he said, the smile growing wider. "What colour is the sea?"

_I'm not going to fall for that_. "Navy."

"What about clouds?"

"White."

"Chocolate?"

"Brown."

"Candyfloss?"

"Um… pink?"

Jack let out a whooping laugh of victory, pointing his pen at her. "I told you!" he said gleefully. "I knew I would catch you out!"

Mrs. McGuff was extremely confused. "What do you mean? You-"

"I told you, didn't I?" said Jack, his dark eyes glinting. "I told you that I could make you say '_pink'_ without meaning to."

"But – you didn't…" Mrs. McGuff protested. "You said it was '_blue_'-"

The moment the word left her lips, she knew she had fallen for it. There was no laughter this time, but the grin grew wider still.

"You see?" he said, softly this time. 'You said '_blue_', despite saying you wouldn't... so, I _can _control you if I want to." He licked his lips. "I can control _anyone_." There was a dark glimmer in his eyes that was distinctly unnerving. Mrs. McGuff shook it off, realising that her class had been entirely disrupted by their little game.

"Fair enough," she acknowledged, with a sense of defeat. "I said the word blue - despite saying I wouldn't. But there's a difference between that and actually forcing people to do things they don't want to."

"_Is_ there?"

And this thought stayed with her for the rest of that Monday; and in fact, for the Monday after that, too. Was it really any wonder she hated the God damned day in the first place?

* * *

**A/N:** Wheeeyyyyy. And now that that's over and done with, I would like to thank all the people who have reviewed so far: _RoxasRocks081, StupidGord, xKillthelights, Darkness Take Over_, and _Xxhold me too tightXx_. I love you all! Please continue to let me know what you think. Au revouir!

_Taio Kaiona_


	4. Back On Form: A Pointless Filler

So, I am working on a new chapter. And a plot. But here you go in the meantime - something slightly different.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jack Napier, or anything else DC or Batman related. If I did, I would definitely donate to 'Wavtack'.**

**

* * *

COURSE APPLICATION SHEET**

**Name: **_Jack _Na_pier_

**Age:**_ Sixteen_

**Date of birth: **_Shh, it's a secret._

**Course application: **_Chemistry Module 2B_

_oo  
_

**Course choice**

Remember, as a rough guide, use half the personal statement to write about your chosen course.

o-o

Why have you chosen the course?

_I think we all know why I chose this course._

o-o

What interests you about this subject area?

_The complete and utter unpredictability._

o-o

What specific topics do you enjoy and why?

_Do I have to answer that? I like Science, that's all._

o-o-o-o

**Career path**

Do you know what career path you want to follow? Give details.

_I don't really want a job. I don't want to be a part of their system – they control enough of my life as it is._

o-o

How does the course tie in with your chosen career?

_See, this. This is what gets me every time. Why do you assume I have my life mapped out in front of me? Maybe, just maybe… I don't KNOW what career I want to choose._

o-o-o-o

**Personal achievements and responsibilities**

Add any details where relevant, which you could include in your statement.

o-o

Have you been a prefect?

_Don't be an utter and absolute fool._

o-o

Have you been a member of your school council?

…_Jesus.  
_

o-o

Are you involved in peer counseling or mentoring?

_Oh yeah, I once taught Jimmy how to hotwire a car.  
_

o-o

Have you completed the James Dorson Survival Skills Opportunity Award?

_No, because Mr. Ingham runs it and he hates me. Don't poke a sleeping dragon in the eye.  
_

o-o

Have you helped to organize any events (e.g. fundraising of charity events)?

_The day I do something for charity will only come when I run my own – The Jack Napier Fund for Weasel Attack Victims. Wavtack for short. Wavtack… I think that sounds like a poor Transylvanian farmer – you know; the type that would trade their wives for goats, because goats get them more money in the long run.  
_

o-o

Have you taken part in school assemblies or open days?

_No, because I got banned from helping. Don't you remember? I tried to convince that woman that it was a 'special' school, using Jessica (who was passing by) as an example of the type of mentally deranged kids we take; but it turned out the woman I was talking to was Jessica's mom._

o-o-o-o

**Extra-curricular activities**

Add any details where relevant, which you could include in your statement.

o-o

Do you play a musical instrument?

_AHA! At last, a question that I can answer properly. I have been playing the piano since the age of five, and I think I'm pretty damned good. I also play the guitar, and the drums. Not that anyone in this 'school' seems to give a shit about what I'm good at. You guys only focus on the negatives._

o-o

Are you a member of a choir, and orchestra or a band?

_Well, I used to sing in the choir. If you remember, I was the soloist on 'Once In Royal David' City' back in seventh grade; but nobody does seem to remember me in seventh grade. I was nice, then. I blended in. How tremendously dull. ...Anyhow, I got sick of singing about God, so I quit. I also used to play gigs with_ _my dad, but I don't now.  
_

_Orchestras are for pansy boys who like classical.  
_

o-o

Do you play any sports?

_Can't say I do, really. Though I like swimming.  
_

o-o

Have you represented you school or another organization in sport?

_I literally just told you I don't play any bloody sports. What a waste of ink and paper_.

o-o

Have you represented your school in any other way?

_I got us on the six o'clock news once for causing a gas explosion.  
_

o-o

Have you been involved in any dramatic productions?

'_Once In Royal David's City' was the height of my career. I quit singing lessons after I told my teacher she looked and sounded like Jabba the Hutt.  
_

o-o

Are you involved in any charity or volunteer work?

_Jeez, give me a year or two, and I'll have saved Wavtack and many a weasel victim.  
_

o-o

Do you have any other hobbies?

_I like films. And characters. I like to experiment and push boundaries. I like to stick up for what is me. I like to study people. The way they behave, find out what makes them tick. How far you can push them. How far they can push you. The struggle for recognition and individualism in a society full of statistics. The id, ego, and human mind. Fear.  
_

_Cooking chocolate brownies._

o-o

Have you been on any relevant visits (e.g. to art galleries for art courses of hospitals for nursing?

_No.  
_

o-o

Anything else?

_There is so much more I could say, but it might seem out of place here_.

* * *

The form was found several days later, covered in dust, underneath Mrs. McGuff's desk. She scanned it with her eyes before folding it up and slipping it into her bag. For a brief moment, she wondered if he really _had_ wanted to apply for the course... or if this was Jack's idea of a joke. No-one ever could tell.

* * *

**A/N: WOO! I POSTED SOMETHING! Right time for the 'thank you's. This is a THANKS to everyone so far: xKillthelights, RedheadObsession, Gir2345, MyChemicalNightmare, RoxasRocks0813, Platinim13, Xxhold me too tightXx, StupidGord, and Darkness Takes Over. If I've missed you out, I'm an idiot. Much love! 3**

**PS. Sorry about all the o-o's : it would let me put dashes, or spaces, so... :(  
**


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